


When I'm 64

by zebraljb



Series: Hershey Kisses [19]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Future Fic, Heavy Angst, Kissing, Lost Love, Love, M/M, Men Crying, Near Future, Oral Sex, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: PROMPT - Kissing while wiping away each other's tears.Harry survives many things, and then he's shot in the head.  He survives this as well...but without his memory.  Merlin makes the hardest decision he's ever faced...he lets Harry go.Angst with a side of angst with angst spread on it. But I promise a happy ending...eventually.  This was supposed to be a one-day prompt but I got so involved it has three parts.Now with a sequel!You Are My Home





	1. Chapter 1

“Harry. Harry, do get up.” Merlin smacks Harry’s foot. “You’re running late and ye still have to stop by your house and make sure everything’s prepared.”

“Abuse,” Harry moans, but he sits up and rubs at his face. The sheet falls to drape about his naked waist and Merlin cannot help but leer at him for a moment. “Do you like what you see?”

“Always,” Merlin says. He stops by the bed and kisses Harry’s unruly curls. “I like seeing you at work on time as well.”

“I do my level best,” Harry swears. “Perhaps if you hadn’t kept me up until…”

“Nae, Harry Hart. Dinnae blame this on me.” Merlin yanks on his jumper.

“All right…this time,” Harry says with a grin. He rubs at his face again. “You seem confident that Eggsy Unwin will be spending the night at my house.”

“Aye…he and Percival’s recruit will make it through the test.”

“And Charlie?”

Merlin snorts. He can finally voice his opinion on the trainees. “Charlie is nae interested in anyone but himself. He willnae make it through.” He frowns.

“What is it?” Harry slides out of bed in all his naked glory and Merlin is temporarily distracted.

“The dog test. I hate to say it, Harry, but I dinnae think your boy will pass. He’s too tenderhearted when it comes to the helpless.”

“I know.” Harry comes over to put his chin on Merlin’s shoulder. “He loves that dog, doesn’t he?”

“Aye…and he respects ye and wants to make ye proud, so he will be torn.” Merlin lets his head fall back onto Harry. “Although I am nae sure I wish for ye to have twenty-four hours alone with the lad.”

“Why?” Harry’s smile in the mirror is devilish. “Jealous?”

“Perhaps. He is quite beautiful, and I think he’d bend over for ye soon enough if he asked him.”

“Would you like to watch that?” Harry nuzzles against Merlin’s neck and kisses behind his ear. “You’ve watched before. That mission in Turkey in ninety-nine…Christ. Knowing you were watching made it even more incredible.”

“I could nae watch ye with Eggsy. It would be like watching ye with…a nephew of mine.” He shudders and Harry laughs.

“I knew you had a soft spot for the boy.”

“He’s earned it. He would make a fine agent.” Merlin steps away and slaps Harry on his arse. “But he willnae have a mentor if ye dinnae get moving!”

“Yes, my argus.” Harry kisses his nose, which Merlin then wrinkles.

“Really, Harry. Of all the pet names ye could come up with…a drab little brown butterfly?”

“It’s a Scottish butterfly,” Harry reminds him. “And I pointed it out to you on our first holiday together. They are charming little fellows, just like you.” Harry gives him a real kiss this time. “I love you, argus.”

“And I love ye, peacock…although I am nae charming nor little.” Merlin holds him close for a moment before sending him off to shower. “I will be leaving before ye are through. I will see ye at HQ.”

Neither of them realize that this is the last intimate moment they will have for the next fourteen years.

 

As expected, Eggsy and Roxanne pass the train test and are sent off for twenty-four hours with their mentors. Harry allows Eggsy to walk ahead of him, giving Merlin a wink over his shoulder as they walk away. Cheeky bugger. Merlin gives his attention to Charlie one final time, happy to see the back of him. 

He putters around his house that evening, trying not to think too much about Harry and Eggsy and what they might be doing. He trusts Harry, knows he will never be unfaithful, but Eggsy is still a very beautiful human being. Merlin and Harry have been together almost twenty years, and Harry would never step out on him. But Eggsy is young and handsome and hangs on Harry’s every word. Merlin actually grins as he thinks of what Eggsy’s probably going through at that moment. Harry always has a lesson to teach, and Eggsy will be learning whether he wants it or not.

The telephone call comes in around midnight. “Hello, darling…did I waken you?”

“Nae, I was sitting in bed reading.” Merlin removes his glasses and turns off the light, snuggling down in bed. “I hoped ye would call.”

“Of course I would call. If only because I know you are dying to know what I’ve been doing all night.”

“If ye are trying to make me jealous, it willnae happen.”

“He is quite pretty. He’s sleeping next to me right now.”

“Bollocks. I know ye, Harry, and it was three weeks into our relationship before ye actually let me sleep next to ye. Ye are too prone to nightmares, and if ye really cared about the boy, ye would not subject him to your flailing about.”

“You know me too well, darling,” Harry says, and Merlin can hear him smiling. “No, we simply talked a bit about what it means to be a gentleman…and I taught him how to make a decent martini. Tomorrow morning we shall discuss proper table etiquette over breakfast.”

“I cannae wait to review the video on this,” Merlin says with a grin. He does love Harry in teacher mode.

“Behave,” Harry says. “I was thinking we could order in tomorrow night. How does Chinese sound?”

“Lovely,” Merlin says. “I will buy, to celebrate your boy making it through and becoming Lancelot.”

“I do hope so,” Harry says with a sigh. “I might finally feel that I’ve done right by his father.”

“Harry,” Merlin says.

“I know. Sweet dreams, my love.”

“Ye as well, Harry. I love ye.”

“I love you, too.”

 

The dog test is a disaster, and Merlin can only watch in dismay as Eggsy grabs JB and heads out of HQ. He nabs the first car he can find and heads off the premises. “Harry, Eggsy failed,” Merlin says as soon as he reaches Harry on his glasses. “He’s taken a company car. I’m going to send him your way.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry growls angrily, but Merlin knows he’s disappointed more than anything else.

Merlin allows Eggsy to bring the car into his old neighborhood before flipping a switch and taking over as driver. He ignores Eggsy’s yelp of irritation as he locks the door and guides the car to Harry’s front door. He brings up all the cameras on Harry’s property and follows Eggsy through the front door (he doesn’t slam it, considerate boy that he is) and in to where Harry’s waiting. They exchange heated words and Merlin actually winces once or twice. Harry’s tongue is sharp when it wants it to be, and he isn’t holding back with Eggsy Unwin. Merlin’s heart breaks a bit as he watches Harry talk about Lee Unwin. It’s something Harry will never get over. 

Merlin’s attention is drawn away for a moment to some intel coming through on a private line. He finally clears his throat and opens communication through Harry’s glasses. “Harry…listen to this. Valentine’s at last saying something of note.” They listen to Valentine talk about his plans for the church.

“South Glade Mission Church,” Harry muses. “Merlin, get the plane ready.”

“Will do,” Merlin replies and terminates the call.

He doesn’t speak to Harry again until he’s on the plane. “I spoke out of turn, Merlin,” Harry says unhappily. “I was just so disappointed. I had such great hopes for him.”

“I know, Harry. He’s young…he doesn’t understand what ye went through with Lee,” Merlin says. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Do you think you could find somewhere for him within Kingsman? If he cannot be an agent, perhaps he could help you with training, or work in the garage.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Merlin says with a sigh. “Chester didn’t want him at the table, but I dinnae think he’ll have any sort of problem with him working as support staff.”

They speak for a few more minutes before Harry goes to prepare for his mission. Merlin calls the Kingsman-issue mobile Eggsy has in his pocket. “I fucked up, Merlin,” Eggsy says miserably. “Didn’t shoot JB, stole a car, yelled at Harry. Jesus Christ I’m a mess.”

“Ye are,” Merlin agrees. “But we will fix all those things. Come in and…”

“No. Harry told me ta stay put here, an’ I’m gonna stay. Like this place.”

Merlin sighs. As long as Eggsy doesn’t go poking his nose where it doesn’t belong, it shouldn’t be a problem. “I advise ye to get Harry’s computer and log in…ye can watch him in the field. His password is Pickle4ever.”

Eggsy snorts. “Of course it fuckin’ is.”

“We’ll talk later, lad.” Merlin terminates the call and busies himself with work until Harry’s feed comes back up at the church.

Merlin actually drops his teacup as Harry starts tearing through the congregation like an avenging angel. Years of Kingsman training, of fighting, come to the forefront as he slaughters an entire group of people. He slowly falls into his chair, staring in shock as Harry cuts a bloody swath through the church. When he finally comes outside, Valentine is waiting. Merlin wants to scream, wants to tell Harry to run, but what good would it do? Death stares him in the face and pulls the trigger.

Merlin slowly shuts the computer, his heart pushing into his throat. His breakfast comes with it and he barely makes it to the rubbish bin, kneeling and retching until he’s gasping for breath. Harry is gone. His Harry, the love of his life. His beautiful vain peacock, dead on the ground outside a church in Kentucky. He slowly sits down, leans back against his desk, and weeps.

He isn’t allowed very long to mourn, however. Before he knows it the system is informing him of an arrival on the bullet train, and he arrives there to find Lancelot point her gun at Eggsy. “Ya gotta see this, bruv,” Eggsy says miserably. He places a mobile and a microchip on the floor and raises his hands in the air. He looks at Lancelot, who frowns but keeps her gun on him.

“What is this, lad?” Merlin studies the chip before activating the phone and seeing the countdown.

Merlin heart breaks even further as he realizes the severity of the situation. Their king is dead, a traitorous bastard who’d sold them all out. His lover is dead. A failed recruit and their newest agent are all he has to fight the murderous bastard. Merlin takes a deep breath and starts to walk away, formulating a plan as he goes. There is a brief pause but then he hears footsteps behind him. Good.

Over the next week Merlin operates as the robot everyone’s always thought him to be. He plans, he schemes, he pretends to be a pilot. He guides Lancelot into space and guides Eggsy into the den of a psychopath. He watches helplessly as Eggsy fights with and kills Gazelle, and wishes with all his might to be the one that drives the hypothetical stake through Valentine’s heart. Valentine killed his Harry, and no death is good enough for him. He should be made to suffer, should be drawn and quartered and hung for everyone to see. But instead Merlin watches through Eggsy’s eyes as the man takes his last breath. It will have to be good enough.

Merlin sets the plane to autopilot and wearily walks in and sits down next to Eggsy. Roxy is asleep on a chair, blanket draped over her petite frame. “Harry’s gone, Merlin,” Eggsy whispers.

“Aye, lad.” He removes his glasses and covers his eyes for a moment. He blinks hard when he looks up again, toying with the ring on his right hand. “He gave me this twenty years ago, on our first anniversary. It belonged to his grandfather.”

“Wot?” Eggsy stares at him. “You an’ Harry…”

“Aye. Me and Harry.” Merlin smiles fondly. “He told me that he wouldn’t put it on my left hand, because he dinnae believe in ‘all that marriage nonsense.’ But when he put it on this hand…” Merlin holds it up. “He said that he would love me until the day he died.” Merlin draws a shuddering breath. “I dinnae expect that day to come so soon.”

“Bruv,” Eggsy whispers. Merlin waits for something else. Sappy words of condolence, a big hug. Instead Eggsy barely touches the ring with his index finger, and then leans against Merlin, his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin allows himself this one moment of sorrow. He leans his head against Eggsy’s, Eggsy’s hair tickling his nose.

 

Thankfully Merlin doesn’t have time for grief, throwing himself into his work at Kingsman. They lose four agents from the table, as well as Arthur and a large number of support staff. Percival was on a plane coming back from a mission when everything went down, and he steps in as interim Arthur. Everyone is shocked by Chester King’s betrayal, and thankfully he didn’t see fit to include anyone else in his plans for survival after V-Day. 

Eggsy is equally shocked when Merlin tells him to move in to Harry’s house. “Bruv, I can’t. That’s…that’s Harry’s.”

“It WAS Harry’s, lad, but in actuality it belongs to Kingsman. He is…no longer going to be living there, and I see no reason why ye should nae move in.”

“Don’t…don’t YOU wanna live there?”

“I have a home.”

“But Merlin,” Eggsy protests. He looks miserable, pity filling his beautiful eyes.

Merlin glares at him. “If ye dinnae want the house…”

“No. No, I’ll take it,” Eggsy says hurriedly, and Merlin understands. He can’t stand the thought of anyone else living there either. “Did…do…is there anything ya, uh, ya want?”

“Do ye wish for me to have it emptied?”

“No!” Eggsy almost shouts, and Merlin is grateful to find there is one person on the planet who loved Harry almost as much as he did. “NO, keep it just like it is.”

“If there is anything of interest I might want, I will ask ye for it,” Merlin says calmly. Eggsy doesn’t need to know that Merlin’s already been to the tiny house, that he’s wandered its rooms, emptying Harry’s decanter of scotch and crying himself to sleep on Harry’s pillow. Merlin has the few trinkets that matter and Eggsy is welcome to everything else. “And if ye wish to change anything, just let me know and I will take care of it. I have a feeling ye will be having regular company there soon.”

“I…it was just a shag! Post-mission adrenaline,” Eggsy says, but he turns red and Merlin has to smile. “She’s a princess. What am I?”

“Ye are a brilliant young man who helped to save the world.” Merlin lets his guard down for just a moment, reaching across his desk to take Eggsy’s hand. “Recognize how lucky ye are to find love, Eggsy. I know it is new, and ye are just getting to know one another, but dinnae throw this chance away. Embrace it, because…because ye dinnae ever know how soon it can be taken from ye.”

“Merlin,” Eggsy says simply, clutching Merlin’s hands in both of his. “I’m so sorry.”

Merlin dips his head in acknowledgement and slowly withdraws his hand. “Now, about investing ye with the name of Galahad…”

That’s enough to set Eggsy off again, actually brightening the atmosphere between them. 

Time passes and Merlin falls into a routine. It’s a routine that just barely keeps him alive, but it’s a routine. He sleeps at HQ five out of seven nights a week mostly, and comes home enough to do laundry, check the refrigerator, refresh his wardrobe. He works with Percival to rebuild the table, making sure to include recruits that aren’t all ‘posh types with silver spoons up their arses,’ as Eggsy says. The seat of Arthur is filled once more by another old man, but one who has an open mind and easy way of dealing with people. Eggsy continues to build a relationship with the princess, and it’s the one thing that makes Merlin smile.

He’s thinking about Eggsy having dinner with the parents of the princess and chuckling as he heats up his own dinner. He’s spending the rare evening at home, planning on eating in front of the television and working through some intel for Arthur. He’s just settling down on the sofa when his clipboard starts to buzz. A large screen drops from a hidden compartment in the ceiling and Merlin bounces back onto his feet. A map of Great Britain, noting the homes of Kingsman knights as well as HQ, the shops, and a few other important locations. One by one the dots on the map disappear. 

Hours later he finds himself on a plane with Eggsy yet again, although this time they are not exhausted with victory. They are exhausted with grief. Roxanne. Percival. Arthur. Support staff. Eggsy’s friend Brandon. His dog. All gone. Merlin busies himself with research into the electronic archives, trying to find out everything he can about Statesman and its employees. They’re able to fly on a Kingsman jet; an underground hangar has its perks, especially after the destruction of the building above. Eggsy stares out the window, doing his best to keep his emotions in check as Merlin orders. But his shoulders are slumped and he occasionally wipes at his eyes. 

When they land in the United States Merlin isn’t sure what to expect. He’s never been there and knows nothing of the culture, the people, the geography, other than what he’s seen on the telly. They make their way to the distillery, breaking away from the tour the first chance they get. The place is massive but Merlin’s tech leads them right where they need to be, and right into the crosshairs of an attractive young man with a cowboy hat and amazing talent with a shotgun…without even pulling the trigger.

They don’t expect that and they don’t expect to wake up tied to chairs and they don’t expect to have their genitals almost lit on fire. But what they really REALLY don’t expect is to look through a two-way mirror and see Harry Hart in a sweat suit and eye patch, carefully shaving his face. Merlin cannot breathe. All the oxygen in the world has gone, gone somewhere he cannot follow. The face he loves, the skin he loves to touch, the body he loves to explore, it isn’t dead. It isn’t rotting somewhere in an unknown grave in the middle of America. It’s right there in front of him, carefully turning this way and that so as to not nick the beautiful jaw.

They jump from their chairs as soon as they’re able and run to the other room. Merlin allows Eggsy to go in first, his heart thumping madly around his chest. The thumping starts to recede into a dull throb as he watches and realizes that Harry has no clue who they are. He falls away from Eggsy’s intended embrace but shakes the hand Merlin offers him. Harry’s polite, “Have we met before?” shatters Merlin’s heart into a thousand pieces, pieces he never wants to try to put back together again. He has Harry watch his finger, just so he has an excuse to study the face he loves. He’s the first one to leave the room, knowing that Eggsy’s shocked at his quick retreat. He doesn’t care. He cannot be in that room, with Harry, for one more second.

“Retrograde amnesia,” Ginger tells them, and goes on to explain how they’d saved Harry’s life. Merlin’s fairly sure he retains the information, but the rest of his body is numb. He nods in all the right places and follows when he and Eggsy are led upstairs to a set of bedrooms.

“All right, Merlin?” Eggsy asks, placing a hand on his arm. “Want some company?”

“Nae, lad, thank ye. I’ll be fine.” 

Merlin goes into the room and falls onto the large bed face first. Harry is downstairs, walking, talking, breathing. Harry. HIS Harry, his peacock. His Harry, who thinks he’s a young man in his twenties with his entire life ahead of him. His Harry, who thinks he lives in a world of butterflies. His Harry…who doesn’t know he’s his at all.

 

Ginger is a kind and brilliant soul and they try everything they can think of. All Harry needs is a trigger, something negative from his past that will shock his memory into action. They flood the room and Merlin’s chest hurts as Harry flails about and yells for help. They try a few other things, Merlin feeding her ideas as she sits and talks with Harry in his room. He cannot do it himself; Merlin absolutely cannot sit and interrogate the man he loves while that man looks at him as if he’s just come in off the train. 

Harry finally blows up, shouting that he doesn’t know them, he wants to be left alone with his butterflies. He wants to see his mother. Ginger looks at Merlin with a quiet desperation. “I’m not sure what else to do,” she whispers, and Merlin wants to cry. “Perhaps a familiar setting? You could take him back home, show him…”

“His home is gone. His workplace is gone. There’s nothing for him there now,” Merlin replies. 

“There’s nothing more we can do for him here,” she says gently.

Merlin wearily pulls himself out of the chair and up to his room. Eggsy texts him, stating he has an idea that he thinks might work. Merlin forces himself back down to the observation room, yet again studying the man he loves through the giant two-way mirror. He’s sleeping, flat on his back as if on a coroner’s table. Merlin doesn’t like the thought. Eggsy soon arrives carrying an adorable puppy who looks just like Mr. Pickle. Harry smiles with delight, taking the dog and cuddling him close. Merlin’s as alarmed as Harry when Eggsy threatens to shoot the puppy, although he has to admit it’s definitely a shock that should rearrange his memories.

Except it doesn’t. Harry stands in the corner cursing at Eggsy, calling him a monster. He holds the puppy tight and protects it with his body. Eggsy finally lowers the gun and weeps, leaving the room without another word. Merlin weeps as well.

 

The next day they meet with Champ and Ginger. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more,” she says sorrowfully. “I really thought we could fix him.”

“Ye saved his life, lass. What more could we ask of ye?” Merlin says truthfully.

“The question is what do we do now?” Champ asks.

“That’s easy enough, innit? We bring him home. He can help us rebuild Kingsman, an’ when the time is right, his memory will come back,” Eggsy says hopefully.

“I’m afraid it is nae that simple, Galahad,” Merlin says with a sigh. “Right now ye look at him and see Harry Hart, a fifty-year-old man, a knight of Kingsman. But that is nae who he is. He is Harry Hart, and in his mind he is a man in his twenties, looking for a place to study butterflies. He is, for all intents and purposes, a civilian, and we dinnae bring civilians to Kingsman.”

“Wot the fuck are ya sayin’, then?”

Merlin’s next words are the hardest he’s ever had to say in his entire life. “We let him go.”

“Let him go where?”

“Somewhere in the country. Somewhere he can be safe and happy, studying his butterflies. Somewhere no one has ever heard of Galahad or Kingsman or Harry Hart. Preferably England, of course, because he’ll feel most comfortable there. He has the memories of his youth, after all.” Merlin looks at Champ. “I hate to ask yet another favor of ye, but do ye have a way to get him to England, make sure he’s safely placed? I will fund it…ye tell me how much money to send and ye will have it. If ye need more throughout the years, I will make sure it is there. If I should…if I should pass before he does, I will set up a trust so that he is always taken care of. I just…I dinnae want to know where he is. The remaining members of the Kingsman organization think he is dead, and we will continue to profess it.”

“We have contacts all over the world, even if we didn’t know about you,” Champ says. “We’ll gladly help. Ginger can start making the necessary calls immediately.” She nods.

“Wait wait wait.” Eggsy stands and kicks his chair back. “Do ya fuckin’ hear yerself, Merlin? Ya wanna shove Harry off somewhere, hide him in tha fuckin’ country, never see him again? What tha fuck is wrong with you?”

“We’ll go get that started,” Ginger says. She and Champ leave the office, her hand brushing over Merlin’s shoulder sympathetically on the way out.

“If ye have a complaint, lad…”

“Fuck that!” Eggsy actually grabs Merlin by the shirt and yanks him out of his chair. “Yer fuckin’ serious…yer willin’ ta send Harry away?”

Merlin puts both hands on Eggsy’s chest and gives him a shove. “Nae, lad. The last thing I want is Harry anywhere but by my side. I’ve loved him since I was younger than ye are now. He is my husband in everything but legality. The LAST thing I want is for him to be more than arm’s length away from me, even now. But I have an agency to rebuild. I cannae babysit him, worry about him. He cannae be at Kingsman, Eggsy, not like this. Ye dinnae see him after we tried the water test. He was petrified, absolutely scared to death. I will nae make him feel that way again, and everything about Kingsman would do just that. He does nae remember his training. He does nae even remember the army. He thinks he’s on the cusp of manhood, preparing to study his beautiful butterflies. We could traumatize him for life.”

“But we…we can’t just send him out there all alone!” Eggsy says tearfully.

“He already think’s he’s alone, lad. He has no clue who we are.” Merlin’s voice rasps to a whisper. “It kills me to have him look at me and see a stranger. I want to wrap myself around him, use my body to make him remember. But I cannae do that.”

“But why not just have him, ya know, around London?” Eggsy asks stubbornly.

“In such circumstances normal protocol is to kill the agent,” Merlin says bluntly and Eggsy gasps. “However…as it stands right now I am the head of Kingsman, and I refuse to do such a thing. If Harry regains his memory he can show up on my doorstep and prove it. Otherwise, he will be safe and happy in a cottage in the country…surrounded by everything he loves.”

“Merlin,” Eggsy whispers. He throws himself into Merlin’s arms and Merlin cannot help but hug back, burying his face in Eggsy’s hair.

 

Ginger makes the arrangements and before they know it Harry is packing to leave. Merlin and Eggsy make a point of visiting him multiple times a day; he still doesn’t know why they seek him out, but he politely accepts their offers to keep him company. The entire situation is heart wrenching, but for Merlin this is like a trip back in time. This is the Harry he met in training, the young beautiful man who was originally a bit shy, a bit reserved, although sharp as a tack and witty as any stage comedian. His circumstances are different now, so he’s not as confident as he truly was at the age he thinks he is, but he soon feels comfortable enough to joke around with them. 

Merlin sees Eggsy struggling. He’s only ever known Harry Hart as Galahad…posh, debonair, brave, dangerous. This soft and gentle soul is not anyone Eggsy recognizes, but he does his best to chatter with Harry and keep him at ease. On their last day Merlin gives Eggsy a long moment alone with Harry, although he does watch in the mirror.

“I hope…I hope ya like where yer goin’,” Eggsy says.

“I think I shall. A cottage in the country, a library full of books on botany and lepidoptery and entomology. I cannot wait.” The puppy barks and Harry picks him up. “And of course I shall have this fellow to keep me company. Isn’t that right, Marlowe?” Harry kisses his head. “Thank you again for giving him to me.”

“Glad to,” Eggsy says. “Just so ya know, Harry…I owe ya my whole life. Thank ya so much.”

“Ah yes…you’re the butterfly I helped to set free,” Harry says, rolling his good eye. “I’m terribly sorry, but you must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Never.” Eggsy throws his arms around Harry and hugs him. “Gonna miss ya, Harry. Love ya so fuckin’ much.” He kisses Harry’s forehead and runs out of the room.

Merlin’s goodbye is just as brief, although a bit more serene. “I wish ye all the happiness in the world, Harry.” He shakes Harry’s hand. “I have a gift for ye.”

“That’s quite kind of you,” Harry says, looking pleased. Merlin smiles. Harry has always loved a gift, no matter how small.

“It’s this.” Merlin holds out his hand.

“That’s…that’s my grandfather’s ring?” Harry says in astonishment. “How in the world did you…”

“I believe ye might have dropped it at some time,” Merlin lies. “I wanted to make sure ye had it.” He places it in Harry’s hand and curls the fingers around it. “Keep it safe, Harry.”

“I will. You’re very kind. Thank you for being so nice to me.”

Merlin cannot help himself. He pulls Harry into a gentle hug. “It was my pleasure. Goodbye, my love.” The last two words are spoken on a breath, so softly that he knows Harry hasn’t heard it. Merlin walks away without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poem Harry quotes about spring - "The Feeling of Spring" by Sakutaro Hagiwara & Makoto Ueda.

Harry wakes up in a strange medical-type place and at first he’s frightened. He doesn’t know where he is, or why, or who these strange people are. They’re American, of course; that’s easy enough to figure out. They’re not doctors, although the pretty young woman is wearing a white lab coat. The other person, the handsome young man, he’s wearing jeans and a cowboy hat. Odd. They ask him questions, starting with his name. He can give them that. Otherwise, he simply knows he’s Harry Hart, he’s from England, and he’s going to study butterflies once they let him go.

The biggest question is how in the world he was shot in the head, and he honestly cannot tell them. He only remembers leaving the house before lunch, heading over to George Wembley’s for a meal and a bit of a gallop on the horses. Next thing he’s waking up alone and scared. There’s a strange substance wrapped around his head, and he feels dizzy and weak. Once he’s able to actually speak with the young lady, he finds out her name is Ginger. The man is Tequila, and their boss is Champagne, or Champ. He knew the States were odd, but this is ridiculous. They ask him over and over, but he can only tell them the same story. And then they finally fill him in.

Harry is horrified. They’d found him outside a church full of dead people. And not just dead people, slaughtered people. He has bruises and cuts on his hands and face, and blood on his suit. He’s the only survivor, apparently, so it looks as if HE killed the congregation. He begs and pleads for them to believe that it’s impossible. He couldn’t kill a fly. Well, he could, if it was an interesting species…but he’d carefully end its life and ONLY so he could study it. He’s always found insects and butterflies much more interesting than people anyway.

She seems to believe him almost immediately, but Tequila takes a while longer. Champ doesn’t seem to have an opinion one way or another, just smiles at him sympathetically before leaving the room. Ginger continues to ask him what he does for a living, how he supports himself. He tries to explain the life of a wealthy Englishman, but she doesn’t seem to get it. He doesn’t DO anything. His parents have money, and he simply…lives.

They keep a close eye on him, containing him to the small padded room. He supposes he understands why; they found him outside a room of murdered people. They have the right to be suspicious. They give him books and paper and best of all, art supplies. He fills the walls with sketches and drawings of his beloved butterflies, taking his time and getting everything just right. Harry makes sure every one is perfect, but he spends the most time on the northern brown argus. He’s not sure why, but he feels the need to take special care with that one.

The first time he’s brought into this room he sees a large mirror on the wall. He thinks it’s quite large for a mirror, but since the room has padded walls, it’s not like they can fill the space with artwork. He ambles over to the mirror and gasps. He whirls around quickly to see if anyone else is in the room but it’s only him. HE’S the man in the mirror. It doesn’t make sense. Harry Hart is a young man with his life ahead of him. This countenance in the mirror is…OLD. He must be fifty if he’s a day, with crow’s feet around the remaining eye, and wrinkles at the neck. He turns his face this way and that, wondering how this could have happened. Has he been asleep for decades? He starts to panic, leaning in close and poking at his face. Ginger miraculously appears, hurrying in and running to his side.

“What…what’s happened to me? Why do I look so…old?”

“Well…” She looks uncertain. “We aren’t sure, but maybe it’s due to the technology we used to save you. We’re still working on it, you see, and…and we haven’t gotten to test it in this manner very often.” She bites her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Harry. Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not,” Harry says. “Really, I’m not, I assure you. I was just…surprised.” He sighs. “At least I’m not unattractive.”

She smiles. “No, Harry, you most definitely are not.”

The days pass, he’s not sure how many, and they continue to ask the same questions. One day, however, things take a rather explosive turn. He’s in his sweat suit, considering doing a bit of calisthenics, when the door bursts open and a handsome young man in a bespoke suit comes barreling in trying to hug him. “Harry!”

Harry tumbles away from him, staring in shock. “Have we met before?” 

“Harry, it’s fine, it’s okay. They know that we know you,” the young man says with a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says politely. “There must be some mistake.” He looks from the young man to the man behind him, a very good-looking bald man. He has a hawkish profile but kind hazel eyes. Harry’s head always was turned by a handsome older gent.

“It’s been a long time, Harry…I need to get my brogues resoled.” The man’s accent is Scottish, and it immediately wraps around Harry like a quilt.

“Yeah, and my oxfords are done in as well,” the young man adds. 

Harry is completely confused. “Why are you telling me about your shoes?” Harry always liked a nice pair of shoes, but he rarely had conversations about them. “I’m a lepidopterist.”

“You’re a what?” The younger man asks.

“I study butterflies,” Harry says proudly. He motions to the walls around the room, smiling at them both. They don’t seem impressed and his smile fades.

“Ye wanted to be, before ye joined the Army, but…” Now Harry really is confused. The army? He never wanted to join the army. They must be mistaking him for someone else. “Harry, look at me.” Harry politely obeys as the Scot holds up a finger and has him follow it. “It’s good to see ye,” the man says finally, and he looks so very sad. He touches Harry’s shoulder. “We’ll be back again soon.” He guides the younger man out of the room.

Things proceed quite strangely after that. The two men come to visit him more than once, the younger one peppering him with questions until it gives Harry a headache. No, he doesn’t remember them. No, he doesn’t remember teaching the younger one. Why would he teach him? They’re practically the same age. The older man is Merlin, and he is quiet and kind, although he continues to look at Harry sadly, as if something’s paining him every time he sees him. The younger one is named Eggy, which is a strange name but Harry’d gone to school with someone who’d called himself Harpy, so he really can’t say much. 

Merlin and Ginger continue to try and get him to remember things, but it doesn’t work. Harry’s sorry about that, because they’re both so kind and caring, and he wishes he could make them happy. HE’S not so happy when they flood his room and ruin some of his drawings, but they’re both quite intelligent, and he supposes they’re trying to help him. Eggy’s way of helping isn’t as smart. He brings Harry the most darling of puppies and then threatens to shoot it, telling Harry that at one time HE’D shot a puppy. Harry tells him to fuck off and leave them alone. Eggy leaves the room crying and Harry cuddles the puppy close, telling him not to worry, Harry will protect him from the scary monster with the gun. Harry would NEVER shoot a dog. Harry would NEVER shoot a gun, unless he was hunting on the grounds of his house. He names the dog Marlowe and he’s permitted to keep it. They even let him take the puppy outside for walks.

Champ and Ginger finally sit Harry down and tell him good and bad news. The good news is he’ll be leaving within a few days, going home to England. The bad news is that both of his parents have passed. He stares at them in shock. An automobile accident, Ginger tells him. A bird flew in front of the car, startling his father. He’d turned the wheel automatically, sending them into a tree. They hadn’t suffered.

Harry stares at his lap, tears falling from his good eye. He’d not even gotten to tell them goodbye. The house was sold, Ginger continues, since no one could find Harry, and relatives have distributed their things. The money is in an account, however, and it’s his to use however he sees fit. They’ve found a lovely cottage for him in the country, and they’ve filled it with everything he might need to study butterflies for the rest of his life, if he so desires. That sounds like the perfect way to get over his grief, and he agrees.

Eggy comes in to see him before he and Merlin are to leave for England. He’s sad to see them go; he’s enjoyed visiting with him. They remind him of home. “I hope…I hope ya like where yer goin’,” Eggsy says.

“I think I shall. A cottage in the country, a library full of books on botany and lepidoptery and entomology. I cannot wait.” Marlowe barks and Harry scoops him up. “And of course I shall have this fellow to keep me company, isn’t that right, Marlowe? Thank you for giving him to me.”

“Glad to. Just so ya know, Harry…I owe ya my whole life. Thank ya so much.”

“Ah yes, you’re the butterfly I helped to set free,” Harry says with amusement. Eggy seems to believe it and he’s done trying to convince him otherwise. “I’m terribly sorry, but you must have mistaken me for someone else,” he says one last time.

“Never.” Eggy suddenly hugs him, almost knocking him over. “Gonna miss ya, Harry. Love ya so fuckin’ much.” He kisses Harry’s forehead and actually runs away.

Merlin comes in a short while later, still looking as sad as ever. “I wish ye all the happiness in the world, Harry.” He shakes Harry’s hand. “I have a gift for ye.”

“That’s quite kind of you.” Harry smiles with delight. Although his parents were loving and kind to him, they didn’t often give presents.

“It’s this.”

Harry stares down at a familiar ring in Merlin’s hand. “That’s…that’s my grandfather’s ring. How in the world did you…”

“I believe ye might have dropped it at some time,” Merlin says, although Harry is certain he didn’t have it on his person when he left the house. “I wanted to make sure ye had it.” He curls Harry’s hand around it. “Keep it safe.”

“I will. You’re very kind.” Harry studies the handsome face. “Thank you for being so nice to me.”

Merlin pulls him into a warm embrace. “It was my pleasure.” Merlin whispers something into his hair but he cannot hear it. Merlin claps him on the shoulder one last time and walks away.

 

The cottage is absolutely charming, although Harry is quite exhausted by the time he gets there. There was the long flight, and then a long train ride, and then a long car ride out to the tiny village. Two women on the train had flirted with him, which he didn’t like. They were old enough to be his mother. But he was polite to them and helped them with their things once they reached the town. He doesn’t have much to unload himself, as he only has his art supplies, books, and the limited amount of clothing he’d worn in Kentucky. Ginger had promised him that the cottage would be completely furnished and his wardrobe would be full, and as he explores the house he realizes it’s true. He sits on the bed and bounces a bit…it’s firm but not too firm. As he looks around Harry realizes this is the first time he’s ever lived on his own. It’s frightening, of course, but at the same time quite exhilarating. He’s never thought of himself as brave, but he decides this is an adventure, and he’s going to enjoy it.

The first few days go by quickly as he learns his new home and his new village. Everyone is polite, but they seem a bit unnerved while talking to him. He’s fairly certain it’s because of his face. He looks decades older than he acts, he’s sure, and that must seem odd. But he’s polite to everyone, always a gentleman, and they soon get used to seeing him around. There is a tiny post office, a church, a pub (of course) and a few shops. There is a grocer and a butcher and a bakery. He’s never cooked before, but there are a few basic cookbooks in his kitchen and he starts perusing them at night in front of his tiny fireplace, taking notes and looking things up online if he doesn’t understand them. Ginger taught him the basics of the internet before he left, and thankfully the small town has a decent connection. The wife of the pub owner has taken a shine to him and has given him some of her own recipes, although her husband frowns whenever Harry talks to her. Again, Harry isn’t sure why she’s interested…she’s ancient. Probably close to sixty.

Once the weather improves Harry spends all his time outdoors. Months fly by as he wanders the countryside with his notebook and pencil, watching butterflies and taking notes. He sends for an expensive camera and lays in the fields for hours taking pictures. He also starts studying the local birds a bit, but his love will always be the beautiful butterflies dancing around him.

He spends the first few months in heavy mourning. He’d loved his parents dearly, and they’d supported him no matter what. They’d hoped he’d find something more interesting to study than butterflies – such as the beautiful girls his age – but they accepted him for who he was and only made remarks about marriage and children on occasion. They’d never known that it wasn’t a wife and children he was looking for. At night he dreams about a man his size, a man whose face he cannot see. The man is strong and warm and loving, and he wraps himself around Harry and whispers in his ear. Harry wakes up feeling confused and comforted at the same time after those dreams.

Other memories flit in and out of his mind, just elusive enough that he cannot keep hold of them. When he looks at Marlowe, he thinks of pickles. He stands in front of his wardrobe and remembers being measured for suits he knows he never owned with his parents. “My Fair Lady” comes on the telly and he actually cries. It’s frustrating, but Ginger had warned him that he might have things like headaches and memory flashes for the rest of his life. He tries to fill his time with his butterflies and books and such, and even attempts to be more social in town. He frequents the pub every night for a week but soon realizes that’s almost as lonely as being at home. Women pay him special attention but he’s not interested, and he’s not quite sure that he feels brave enough to approach a man. The men who come to the pub are burly and strong, and Harry doesn’t think he could hold his own in a fight if it came to it.

And so the time passes.

 

~~~

 

“Arthur…might I have a word?” Eggsy pokes his head into Merlin’s office.

“Of course, Galahad.” Merlin smiles wearily and pushes away from his desk a bit.

It’s been two years since they left Harry in Kentucky and Merlin’s absolutely buried himself in Kingsman. He’s reorganized, rebuilt, and the new HQ is a glorious old manor house outside London. The security is better, the employees are better, and he’s just starting to rest easy. He doesn’t like his dual role as Merlin/Arthur, although right now there is still no one else to do it. There are two knights still uncounted for, Kay and Lamorak, and they’re working to find them. They both have the years of experience needed to be Arthur and Merlin plans on throwing one of them into the job as soon as they’re found. The entire world is still rebuilding as well, and Kingsman is gently assisting, as unobtrusively as they can.

Eggsy smiles back and stands in front of Merlin’s desk. He’s settled down a bit since Kentucky, seeming to wear the mantle of Galahad as a tribute to Harry. He’s still rash and cheeky at times, but always tries to be a gentleman. During the first year he’d been a nightmare in the field, throwing himself into situations that almost seemed suicidal. When he’d landed himself in Medical after blowing up a building, Merlin had raged at him so fiercely that he’d actually made Eggsy cry.

“Don’t ye see ye are alI I have left, lad?” Merlin had bellowed. Eggsy stared up at him in shock. It was an unspoken rule during that first year that they did NOT talk about Harry. “Ye act as if ye dinnae want to come back from these missions, and I cannae…I…” Merlin shook his head. “Kill yourself if ye want, but I willnae be the man in your ear.”

“No, no Merlin!” Eggsy had grabbed at his hand, pulling him down so he could hug him. “That’s not…I’m not…I won’t. I promise. Swear down.”

And now Eggsy stands before him, looking handsome and dangerous in his navy suit, waiting for Merlin to offer him a seat. “Please sit, lad. What can I do for ye?”

Eggsy carefully sits. “I need a few days off.”

“Oh ye do?” Merlin has a tiny inkling as to why, but he plays dumb. “Ye do realize we are working to put the world back together.”

“I do. I also realize we have eight knights currently working around the world, as well as support staff keeping things going here.”

“And might these days off have anything to do with a trip to Sweden?”

Eggsy blushes. “I…well…”

“Eggsy.” Merlin stands and Eggsy hops to his feet as well. “I know why ye dinnae want to tell me.” Over the last few months, Merlin has allowed himself to speak to Eggsy about Harry. Eggsy and no one else, because he’s the only one who knows, who understands. “I told ye long ago to take love when ye can, because ye never know. I had decades with Harry and it was nae even close to enough.” Merlin cups Eggsy’s face in his hand. “Do ye love her?”

“I really do, Merlin. She…she’s amazing, she makes me so happy. It will be hard, our lives are crazy, but…I want this. Want her. Forever.”

“Then ye do it.” Merlin gently kisses his forehead. “I am so proud of ye, Eggsy, and Harry would be, too. Ye have turned into everything he saw in you, have lived up to your potential.”

Eggsy sniffles a bit, as he usually does when they speak of Harry. “Ya really think he would be proud?”

Merlin smiles. Eggsy’s accent comes back when he’s emotional. “Aye.”

“So…so I have yer blessing?”

“My blessing?” Merlin stares at him. “Lad, I dinnae…”

“Don’t got a dad anymore, don’t got…don’t got Harry. You an’ me, we gotta special relationship. More than mates, more than a boss an’ employee. Yer like my…like my father, sorta, an’ I needed ta know that you was okay with it.”

“I’m more than okay with it, lad. Yes, ye have my blessing. She is lucky to have ye.” 

 

~~~

 

“So. How do I look?” Eggsy turns away from the mirror, biting his bottom lip. “Like a total idiot, right?”

“Oh, lad.” Merlin touches the medal on Eggsy’s chest. “Ye look amazing.”

“I look like an idiot.” Eggsy turns back to the mirror and swallows hard. “I dunno if I can do this, Merlin. Who I am I to be marryin’ tha future Queen of Sweden?”

“Ye are Eggsy Unwin. Ye are brave and strong, loyal and smart. She is lucky to have ye, and this country is lucky to have ye.”

Eggsy slowly nods. “Gonna miss ya, bruv. Hate that I can’t stay in England.”

“Ye will be doing us all a great service, moving here and starting your new position.” They’d found a way for Eggsy to meld his duties as consort to the Princess with his connection to Kingsman. He’d be working in more of a diplomatic capacity, but he was one of the most charming people Merlin had ever met, and he’d be able to gather information and form relationships in a way he couldn’t as a knight. “I have something for ye.”

“Merlin…”

“Hush.” Merlin holds out a ring, his hands shaking a bit. 

“I already have a Kingsman signet ring, Merlin.”

“Nae, lad. Look at it. It’s not quite the same.” Eggsy holds it close to his face, studying the gold band. “It is nae longer a Kingsman signet, has no special function. It was Harry’s signet ring. I had them melt it down and reform it for ye.” Eggsy almost drops it. “When they found him, Ginger confiscated everything he had on him. She gave it to me when we left.”

“Merlin.” Eggsy’s chin trembles. “I can’t take this.”

“Aye, lad, ye can. I know if he were alive, he would be the one to stand up with ye today. At least…at least he’s here in spirit.”

“Fuck, Merlin, I love you.” Eggsy throws himself into Merlin’s arms.

 

~~~

 

Merlin wipes a hand over his face and yawns, forcing himself to stand up and stretch. He touches his toes ten times, and does ten jumping jacks. At age 55 he is still as busy as ever at Kingsman, burying himself in the work to hide his loneliness. He still misses Harry more than he could ever admit, although he has not tried to find him. Money is still taken from the account on a regular basis, so he knows Harry is still alive, but other than that, he forces himself to act as if Harry truly is dead. His portrait hangs in a corridor at Kingsman, but Merlin makes sure it’s a corridor he rarely uses. Very few people working with the agency even remember him, and Merlin’s thankful for that. He does occasionally speak of him to Eggsy, when they’re on the phone, or when Eggsy visits every year on V-Day. And he always makes a point of coming home to England that day, although neither of them admit it’s why he visits. He just shows up, takes Merlin to dinner, or they eat in and talk about Sweden, Kingsman, Tilde. 

That’s why Merlin is completely shocked to see Eggsy stride into his office after knocking and receiving permission to come in. “Eggsy?” Merlin almost falls over mid-jumping jack. “What are ye doing here? Are ye all right? Is Tilde all right?”

“No.” Eggsy walks around the desk and hugs Merlin.

“Jesus Christ, lad…talk to me.” Merlin allows the hug and then pulls back to study Eggsy’s face. “Are ye sick? Is…is Tilde…”

“No, we’re fine. We’re not sick, she’s all right. I’m all right, physically.” Panic is written all over Eggsy’s handsome face. “What am I gonna do, Merlin?” He tugs at his hair and sits on the edge of Merlin’s desk. 

“Eggsy.” Merlin doesn’t want to say the words, doesn’t want to even think them, but he has to. “Ye…ye haven’t been…unfaithful, have ye?”

“Fuck, no!” Eggsy almost shouts. “Have ya seen my wife? She’s fuckin’ perfect an’ I love her with all of my heart.” He looks disgusted.

“Sorry…sorry…” Merlin holds up his hands.

“She’s pregnant.” Merlin stares at him. “Three-and-a-half months…with twins.” Eggsy laughs but doesn’t truly look amused. “I am going to be the father of the future King or Queen of Sweden, Merlin.”

Merlin bursts out laughing. He can’t help it. Eggsy looks so lost when he should be thrilled. “That’s the part ye are worried about, lad?”

“Well…what can I teach them? How to steal a car, or nick a wallet, or climb a building?”

“Ye can teach them to be loyal to their friends, to love their family, to be brave and true. Ye can teach them to be charming and polite, to think of others before themselves. These are all traits ye have in spades, lad.” Merlin hugs him. “Ye will be an amazing father, and Tilde will be there to keep ye on track.”

“Yeah, she will.” Eggsy smiles faintly. “I’ve known for a while, of course, but I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone until she was past the three month mark. Came home to tell Mum.”

“I’m glad ye stopped by, Eggsy. It was wonderful to see ye and have this news delivered in person.”

“It’s not the only reason I wanted to tell you in person.” Eggsy takes a deep breath. “You know there’s going to be a fuckton of pomp and circumstance about this…they’re gonna have like fifty-six official names, and there will be a fancy christening and all that. But I talked to Tilde about this and she agreed…we want you to be the true godfather to them. If anything would happen to us, we want you to make sure they’re raised to be decent human beings, and not just a part of the royal family.”

“Eggsy,” Merlin whispers. “I’m not…”

“Raised ME right, didn’t ya?” Eggsy asks with a sad smile. “Please, Merlin.”

“I would be honored.” 

 

~~~

 

“Hello?” Merlin mumbles into his phone, still half under his pillow.

“Merlin.”

He opens one eye and looks at his clock. “Christ, lad, it is two in the morning.”

“Tilde’s gone into labor.”

Merlin sits up. “Well, shouldn’t ye BE with her?”

“I will, I mean, I am. They’re like getting her all ready or whatever. I need you here.”

“Me?”

“Please, Merlin. I’m gonna have a fuckin’ breakdown.”

“People have babies all the time, Eggsy,” Merlin points out, but he’s out of bed and pulling on his clothes as he speaks.

“I just…I need you. I’m so fuckin’ scared.”

“Go be with your wife. I will be in the air within the next few hours.”

“Thanks, bruv. I owe you one.”

“Aye.” Merlin hangs up and goes to splash cold water on his face. 

Twelve hours later he is in a private suite at a Swedish hospital, watching with tired delight as Eggsy holds his son and Tilde holds their daughter. “Perfect. They’re perfect. You’re perfect.” Eggsy leans down to kiss his wife.

“That she is,” Merlin says with a smile. “Forgive me for intruding on such a private moment,” he says to Tilde.

“Do not apologize. I know my husband, and I know he was probably freaking out.” She beams up at him. “Like he had to do any of the work.”

“I held your hand and said push,” Eggsy protests, and she laughs. 

“Yes, you were wonderful, darling.”

Eggsy looks at Merlin. “Are you ready to hold your godson?”

“I suppose I will have to be.” Merlin sits on a chair and Eggsy hands him the baby.

“Stefan Hart,” Eggsy tells him, and Merlin freezes.

“What?”

“Yes,” Tilde says softly. “I’m so sorry I did not get to meet your friend. When Eggsy explained it to me, I realized it was the perfect name. And this is Roxanne.” She kisses her daughter’s head.

Merlin pulls the baby in close, burying his face in the blanket for a brief moment. “Aye…the perfect names.” He closes his eyes, thinking about how proud Harry would be at this moment.

 

~~~

 

“Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Hart?”

“No, thank you, that will be all.” Harry picks up his bag and easily swings it into the car. His documentation says he’s turning sixty-four later that week; Ginger told him his identification matches the way he looks, to make things easier. He doesn’t feel sixty-four, he feels a good fifteen years younger. “I will return the car in a week.”

“Of course, sir.” The rental agent waves at him as he gets in and prepares himself for a five-hour drive.

He’s been all over England studying butterflies for years, even publishing a few books on the subject. Now he’s prepare to branch out a bit, and is driving to Scotland for a week. He’s paid a village boy to look in on the house, although there won’t be much to do. Marlowe had passed on the year before, and Harry hasn’t been ready to get another dog. He’d spent the last few days in the large town near the village, adding to his wardrobe and preparing a few supplies. Harry’s used to being alone, but now and then it is nice to bury oneself in the hustle and bustle of a town. He’s been tempted to go to London a few times, but something has always held him back. It’s the noise, he supposes. He’s so used to the calm and serenity of the country. A city like London would more than likely be quite jarring.

He sets the coordinates in the GPS on his mobile and gets on the road, singing to himself as he drives. He occasionally listens to the radio, but more often than not he just enjoys the silence. He cannot truly appreciate the music of the current generation, and that’s mostly what he finds on the car radio. 

The drive goes quickly and soon he’s checking in at a darling bed and breakfast. “Do you need help with your bags, Mr. Hart?” The sweet older woman behind the desk asks.

“No, thank you, I’m fine.” He makes two trips and soon has everything up in his room. He will have dinner in town, and then be out in the fields bright and early the next morning.

He’s found over the years that being a fairly attractive man of obvious means, even a man with an eyepatch, draws attention from single women and occasionally even single men. He’s allowed himself to accept a drink from a strange man the few times he’s been somewhere other than the village, and once he even allowed someone to bring him home with them. But it felt off, strange, and he’s never repeated the experience. It’s no different at the small restaurant he goes to for dinner. A woman sitting at the bar smiles invitingly at him, but he simply nods in response and goes back to the magazine he’s reading. He’s not here for a hookup, he’s here to enjoy a meal. He’s accepted the fact that romance is not in the cards for him, and to be honest, he’s not really looking for it. His sex drive has seemed to wane over the years; he figures it’s age. He doesn’t allow himself to admit that it’s really because he seems to look and look and not find what he’s searching for.

The next morning he is up by half-eight and eating breakfast by nine. He packs his knapsack with his notebook, his camera, his reference materials, and sets out for the fields outside town. The owner of the bed and breakfast had kindly provided him with a map and a few other brochures; the area is famous for its flora and fauna. Thankfully it’s not the most popular time of the year, and Harry is alone in the fields for hours. He repeats the process the next day, and the next. He eats at the same restaurant, and walks the same fields. On the fourth day, he moves a bit further east and settles himself on a rock in a field. The sun is bright and the colors of the flowers are breathtaking.

“The joy at the coming of spring is like the sound of a flute that plays on the life of everyone,” he murmurs to himself, smiling as a butterfly lands on the rock beside him. “Well, hello my friend.” He barely breathes as he leans in to look more closely. “Ah. Aricia Artaxerxes…northern brown argus.” A sudden wave of pain rushes through his head and he drops his notebook, pressing his palm to his eye.

“Really, Harry. Of all the pet names ye could come up with…a drab little brown butterfly?” A Scottish voice says. He slowly looks around but he is alone in the field. The voice was in his mind. He sees a bald head, a strong nose, warm hazel eyes.

“It’s a Scottish butterfly,” his own voice continues in his memory. “And I pointed it out to you on our first holiday together. They are charming little fellows, just like you.” Harry kisses the handsome man. “I love you, argus.”

“And I love ye, peacock, although I am nae charming nor little,” Merlin says.

Merlin. Merlin. The man from Kentucky. No, not Kentucky, England. The odd man who spoke to him with kindness, who looked at him sadly. The man with Eggy. The headache throbs again and Harry slowly slides from the rock onto the grass. He faces the sun, eyes closed. 

“Like my da saved your life even though your fuck up cost his?” Eggy says, his face tight with anger in Harry’s memory. “Wot, ya got him stuffed here an’ all?”

“Can’t you see that everything I’ve done has been about trying to repay him,” Harry says to Eggy.

Not Eggy. Eggsy. Eggsy Unwin, Lee’s son.

Merlin. The man who’d returned his grandfather’s ring. Not returned it. Given it BACK. Because Harry had given it to him as a promise. A promise of their love. “Fuck!” Harry cries as everything comes rushing back. He’s not a young man. He’s truly turning sixty-four. He’s not a lepidopterist, he’s a Kingsman agent. A spy. A gentleman spy. He’s not alone, he’s loved. Loved by a boy almost like a son to him. And loved by a man who is his…everything.

 

~~~

 

“Thank you, Frank.” Merlin gets his purchases from the boot of the Kingsman cab and slams it shut. “I appreciate ye taking me to the shops on the way home.”

“Of course, Merlin, any time. Have a good evening.” Frank speeds off and Merlin whistles as he goes up the pavement to his front door. He grabs the mail from the box, smiling as he sees his name and address scrawled in a childish hand. Tilde insists that her children – now nine years old – send “Papa Merlin” weekly correspondence to help them practice their English, their penmanship, and their general social skills. Merlin is more than happy to participate in this particular lesson. Roxanne’s letters are always informative and proper; “Mummy and I went to a lovely party last evening, I wore a purple dress with white lace, it was beautiful.” Stefan is every inch his father’s son, and writes like it: “Dad took me with him to do parkour, Mum freaked out but it was fine. I jumped real high, you would have loved it.”

Merlin hurries inside and puts his groceries away before heading into the front parlor. He sets the letters to the side and slowly opens the door of the liquor cabinet. He pulls out a framed picture and sets it on the cabinet next to his favorite scotch. Harry at forty, handsome and debonair, leaning against a wall and looking out a window. Merlin pours himself a glass of scotch and toasts the photograph. “Many happy returns, my peacock,” he whispers. He wonders what Harry looks like at sixty-four, if the gorgeous dark hair has gone totally grey. He himself looks the same, he feels, although there are more wrinkles around his eyes, and his hands look old. His body is still fit; Merlin takes full advantage of the exercise equipment at Kingsman whenever he can.

He pours himself a second drink and sits down with the photo. “I miss ye, Harry. I miss ye every day. It has nae gotten easier with time. Ye always thought so highly of yourself, and perhaps you were correct. I cannae let ye go.” Merlin kisses the photo and shakes his head. He’s not normally this sentimental.

A knock at the door makes him jump. He frowns; these days people know well enough to leave him alone at home. He’s only gotten grumpier with age. He stands up, places the photo back under the cabinet, and goes to the door.

Merlin opens it and the glass hits the ground, shattering around his feet and splashing expensive scotch up over his trouser leg. “Hello, my argus,” Harry Hart says almost shyly.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin’s mouth suddenly goes dry and he can only stand and stare. “H-Harry?”

The man in front of him is tall and thin, still elegant in a bespoke suit. The hair is more grey than brown, but not all the way silver. He wears a pair of stylish glasses with the left eye blacked out and he clutches a small bag. Merlin wants to believe it, WANTS to believe it with all his heart, but his rational brain insists it cannot be true. This cannot be Harry, his Harry. Then the man smiles, a slow shy grin that slides across his face.

“I know I’ve been gone for a while, but does that mean you’ve forgotten how a gentleman behaves?” Harry asks softly.

“I…of course.” Merlin steps aside and allows Harry to come in. He places his bag on the floor behind the door.

They stare at each other for a long moment, drinking each other in. “I’m so very sorry for my delay,” Harry says finally. “Apparently I’ve been under a bit of delusional thinking,” he finishes. “I thought I was a young lepidopterist.”

“I know.” Merlin actually covers his mouth with his hand. “Harry…”

“I’d like to say I’ve missed you, but sadly I have not,” Harry says with a wan smile. “I had glimpses of you, traces of memories, but I didn’t know about us…until a few days ago.”

“I’ve been lost without ye.” Merlin cannot stop the sobs now and his entire body quakes with emotion. “Is…are…are ye real? Is it really ye, Harry?”

“Your favorite color is green. You love Christmas but hate Boxing Day. Your favorite fruit is bananas, your dream vacation spot is Tahiti. You love broccoli but hate carrots. You don’t like having your ears kissed but you like it when I trail my fingers up and down your spine.”

Merlin slowly crumples to the floor, sobbing into his hands. He feels Harry sit next to him and finally wrap his arms around him. “Harry…my Harry, Christ…” Merlin allows himself to be pulled into the embrace he hasn’t forgotten, the embrace that is so familiar after all this time. 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you before now, my sweet darling argus,” Harry whispers. “You were what brought me back. I saw the butterfly, and I remembered. I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine what you’ve been through.”

Merlin clutches at Harry’s jacket, burying his face in Harry’s neck and inhaling. The smell is different now; of course Harry probably uses different products. But it’s still familiar, perfect. He finally pulls back to look at him, to touch Harry’s face. “Still so handsome.”

“Old,” Harry corrects with a smile. He takes Merlin’s hand and kisses the palm. “You, my darling, are as gorgeous as ever. How is it that I’ve aged but you have not?”

“I have on the inside. I’m old and grumpy and tired.”

“You are perfect,” Harry whispers, kissing his palm again. Tears stream down from his good eye. “I’ve been alone…tried to find someone to be with and no one ever fit. Now I know why. I needed you, my Hamish. I love you.”

“I love ye too.” Merlin presses his lips to Harry’s and he eagerly responds. The kiss stays chaste, full of love and tenderness. He runs his hand through Harry’s hair, the strands as soft as ever. “Ye are a dream come true…I cannae believe this.” He leans his forehead against Harry’s. “Every year on your birthday I get drunk,” he admits. “I’m still nae sure this is nae a drunken hallucination.”

“It isn’t, because this floor is doing horrible things to my back.”

Merlin chuckles and slowly stands up, helping Harry to his feet. “Ye are really here.” The tears start to fall again.

“I am.” Harry moves first, pulling Merlin into a tight embrace. This time Merlin feels Harry shake with sobs. “It was like I woke up…like Sleeping Beauty. I woke up and the world had changed. There I was, sitting in a field in Scotland, realizing that my life had been a lie for the past fourteen years. I didn’t come right away because I had to work through some things…the church, for example. I slaughtered all those people.”

“Not your fault, Harry.”

“And then I had to try to figure out how I’d gotten where I was, and why.” Harry draws a shuddering breath. “I read online about V-Day, about what actually happened. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I’m still dealing with the aftereffects…I’ve had nightmares every night since I got my memory back,” he confides. “Everything I’ve found online mentions the death of Gazelle…of Valentine…but nothing says what happened to them.”

“Eggsy Unwin happened to them,” Merlin says grimly.

“Good,” Harry says just as grimly.

“Let’s sit down. I’m afraid my knees are a bit weak.” Merlin takes Harry’s hand and leads him to the parlor.

“Hardly anything has changed,” Harry says with a smile as he looks around. “I’m glad to see that.”

Merlin can’t help but stare at Harry as he talks. He’s still finding it so hard to believe. After all this time Harry is actually here, on his sofa. In his house. He keeps a tight hold of Harry’s hands, and Harry’s grip is just as strong. “Harry, what do ye know about what happened all those years ago?”

“As soon as I got my memory back, I emailed Ginger and demanded an explanation. She’s head of Statesmen now.”

“Aye, I know,” Merlin says. Champagne had passed away three years prior and Ginger was the obvious choice to replace him. 

“She explained everything…how they found me, how you and Eggsy tried to bring my memory back.” Harry kisses the back of Merlin’s hands. “I cannot imagine how heartwrenching it must have been for you, my darling. I know you tried your very best.”

“I did, and it was hard. We tried everything…Eggsy even gave ye a dog and threatened to shoot it.”

“Ah, so that’s how I got Marlowe, may he rest in peace.” Harry sighs. “She then told me about the decision to create a life for me in the country.”

“I’m so…so sorry, Harry.” Merlin’s voice cracked. “I dinnae want to send ye away. But I was afraid for ye. I could nae keep an eye on ye and rebuild Kingsman. I could nae bring ye to Kingsman and expect ye just to fit in somewhere. Eggsy was furious with me.” He chokes on a sob. “I knew ye would nae understand about Kingsman, what it was. Ye could not find a place there.”

“Hamish, it’s fine. It is, truly,” Harry promises, wiping his tears away and kissing him again. “I was a young man in an old man’s body. I wouldn’t have understood in the slightest.” His face is troubled. “I don’t understand how you managed to get around Chester, however. The protocol is to…”

“Chester was already dead,” Merlin says coldly. “He was a traitor, siding with Valentine. He tried to get Eggsy to join them, participate in their plan, and was planning on poisoning him if he dinnae go along with it.” Harry looks horrified. “But Eggsy told him he’d rather be with ye, and switched the glasses. Chester poisoned himself.”

“Good. Classist prick,” Harry snaps. “But certainly whomever was Arthur…”

“Right before we found ye in Kentucky, there were attacks,” Merlin says finally, shivering as he remembers. “It is a long story for another time, but everything was destroyed. The shop. The known residences of all the agents, including yours. The manor.”

“Christ,” Harry whispers.

“Arthur, Percival, Lancelot…so many agents gone.” Merlin shakes his head. “Eggsy and I and a few others were all that were left.”

“Now I see what you meant about rebuilding Kingsman.” Harry slowly smiles. “You were Arthur.”

“Aye, and I fucking hated every minute of it,” Merlin says savagely. “Lamorak finally reappeared and took the job. Now I am just Merlin.”

“You were never just Merlin, darling.” Harry leans in and gives him a tender kiss. “I’m so proud of you. I know the decision you had to make was a horrible one, but Kingsman, and the world, had to come first.”

“Never in my heart, Harry.” Merlin leans his forehead against Harry’s. “Ye were with me every single day. I used to talk to ye.” He laughs a bit through his tears. “Every morning as I got dressed I would discuss my day with ye, and every evening as I got ready for bed, I would tell ye about how it all played out. At the beginning I did it out loud, but later it was in my head. I had to, because…” Merlin swallows the lump in his throat. “I started to forget, Harry. I forgot how your hands felt on my body, I forgot what ye smelled like. I forgot the sound of your laugh. I forgot your voice saying my name.” Harry starts to cry again as well. “I spent so many hours in the archives they actually set a room up for me. I would listen to your missions again and again, just to hear your voice.”

“I’m here now, darling,” Harry says in a harsh whisper. “I’m here, I won’t ever leave you again.”

“Nae, ye will not,” Merlin agrees. “I’ve buried myself in Kingsman, given them eveyr part of me but my heart. That was always yours, and now that ye are back, I will retire without a second thought.”

“We can discuss that later,” Harry promises. “Tonight isn’t for all of that.”

“Nae, it is not.” Merlin smiles at him. The constant weight on his heart, the weight he’s carried for fourteen years, slowly starts to dissipate. “Are…are ye hungry? I could make something…”

“No. My stomach is twirling so much I cannot even think about food.” Harry looks down. “I was afraid I’d come and…and you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

Merlin stares at him in shock. “Do ye still have residual brain damage?” Merlin gasps. “Like I would nae want ye!”

“I didn’t know. It’s been so long, and the last time you saw me I was younger, and broken. Now I’m older, and, well, still broken.” He touches the eyepatch.

“Harry, ye are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Merlin runs a hand through Harry’s hair, touches the eyepatch, caresses his cheek. “I could look at ye forever and never get tired of ye.”

“Hamish,” Harry whispers, kissing him again. 

The kiss grows passionate, years falling away as they relearn each other’s mouths, tongues, faces. “Harry, I would…if ye wanted…”

“Take me upstairs,” Harry commands and Merlin laughs. 

“Still bossy.”

“Of course.” Harry slowly stands and brings Merlin up with him. “As I told you, Merlin, I looked for someone…I was so tired of being alone. But I only slept with one person during that time. I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Harry.” Merlin starts to lead him upstairs. “I’m jealous of anyone who’s ever gotten to touch ye in that way, but I am nae angry. I understand. I was nothing to ye.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeats anyway.

Merlin leads him to the bedroom and closes the door. “God, I cannae believe this is happening.”

“I know.” They look at each other for a moment before Harry reaches out for the hem of Merlin’s jumper.

They slowly undress one another, taking time to do what they used to rush through. Merlin gets goosebumps when Harry finally has his jumper and shirt off, Harry’s fingers gentle and light as they dance over his skin. “I’ve missed your touch,” Merlin whispers. Harry simply smiles and plants kisses across Merlin’s collarbones and shoulder blades, walking around him in a circle. His fingers graze over Merlin’s spine and he actually whimpers.

Merlin turns around to kiss Harry, removing the jacket, and then the tie. He tosses them in a corner of the room and grins when Harry doesn’t protest. The cufflinks slide into Harry’s trouser pocket, and he slowly unbuttons the shirt and peels it away. “I’m not as fit as I used to be,” Harry says, blushing a bit.

It’s true, there is a bit of a paunch to his stomach, although he’s still slender. “Ye are perfect.” Merlin unties his shoes and tosses them away before falling to his knees to untie Harry’s. 

Nothing more is said as they get each other undressed, socks and trousers and pants falling to the floor in an ungraceful heap. Harry crawls onto the bed and settles on his back, looking at Merlin with his dark eye. He hesitates, then removes the glasses and sets them on the nightstand. Merlin covers Harry’s body with his own, shivering when they’re finally pressed together with nothing between them. Not clothing, not distance, not time. They kiss for a long moment, and then Merlin pulls away. He leans up a bit and gently kisses the scarred skin around Harry’s eye. “Hamish…”

“Quiet. I want to learn every part of ye, settle ye deep in my memory so I will nae forget ye again.” He kisses along the tight skin, pressing the lightest of kisses to the empty socket. He works his way down Harry’s face, taking his time to nip along the tender jaw. He tastes the delicious divot where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder, runs his tongue down Harry’s sternum. Harry cries out when Merlin’s tongue finds his nipples, sucking and flicking at them until Harry’s hands are lightly scratching down his back. He moves down Harry’s abdomen, taking a bit of skin in his teeth and working it a bit until Harry wriggles and laughs a bit. He tastes the sweet saltiness of Harry’s inner thigh, and only then does he finally move to the hardness between Harry’s legs. The smooth heat is all too familiar, as is the groan Harry releases when Merlin takes him in his mouth.

“Hamish…oh God, Hamish, I love you so much…this…” Harry gasps, arching his hips. Merlin takes his time, slowly working Harry into a frenzy. “Inside me, please, Hamish,” he finally gasps. 

“Are ye sure?” Merlin kisses his way up Harry’s chest.

“The night I went home with that person…we didn’t…it was only hands and mouths,” Harry says into Merlin’s neck. “I’ve not been with anyone this way since you. I want it to be you…only you…”

“Harry.” Merlin kisses him for a long time before finally rolling over to the nightstand for the lube. He’s not been with anyone since Harry, but there are nights when he’s missed Harry, missed his touch, and he’s taken care of himself with Harry’s name on his tongue as he came.

Merlin kneels between Harry’s bent legs, kissing him slowly as his fingers start to work their way inside. “Oh, Hamish,” Harry sighs. His hands move up and down Merlin’s back as his mouth slides along Merlin’s neck and chest.

“Let me know when ye are ready, Harry,” Merlin murmurs. He could do this forever, slide his fingers into the tight heat.

“Now,” Harry murmurs after Merlin’s worked in a third finger. Merlin slicks his cock and maneuvers himself into a good position. “Let me.” Harry reaches down for Merlin’s cock and Merlin almost starts crying again. Harry guides Merlin into place and cants his hips a bit, inviting Merlin to push inside.

“Christ, Harry…” Merlin buries his face in Harry’s chest, whispering nonsense words of love against his skin.

“Hamish…” Harry barely chokes the word out.

They move together as if the years have never passed, as if it hasn’t been over a decade since they last gave themselves to one another. Harry’s hands press at Merlin’s backside, urging him in harder and deeper. He sucks on Merlin’s bottom lip, fingers digging into Merlin’s back. “I love ye Harry oh how I fucking love ye,” Merlin says, sweat dripping from his forehead into Harry’s hair. 

“Hamish,” Harry whines. He reaches between them and strokes his cock, and it only takes a few tight movements of his hand until he’s coming onto his stomach. 

“Fuck,” Merlin rasps. Harry’s body tightens around him, drawing the orgasm out of him. He shudders and collapses onto Harry, not carrying that Harry’s come is slick against his stomach.

“Hamish.” Harry’s hands slide over Merlin’s sweaty skin. “I love you.”

“I love ye.” Merlin slowly raises up to kiss him. 

They force themselves out of bed and into the shower, where they slowly clean each other, running their hands over each other’s body with no other purpose but to touch, to explore. Merlin pulls on a pair of pajama bottoms and a vest and goes to the wardrobe. “What is…” Harry slowly takes the red dressing gown. “Hamish.”

“I brought a few of your things from the house when we thought ye were dead,” Merlin says quietly. “This was one of them. Eggsy lived there up until the attacks.”

Harry slowly puts it on, sliding his hands into the pockets. “I guess I don’t have a home here, do I?”

“I know of some space that might be available,” Merlin says shyly. “Ye get half a bed, half a wardrobe, an entire office, half the refrigerator.”

“How is the landlord?” Harry asks with a grin.

“Insufferable Scottish bastard, grumpy as hell and quite particular about his tea.”

“He sounds absolutely wonderful.” Harry hugs him and kisses his neck. “I believe I will take you up on your offer. I will have to close up the cottage in Scotland, however…I’d like you to come with me when I do.”

“I would love to,” Merlin says, as if he’s ever letting Harry out of his sight for more than an hour ever again.

They go downstairs, where Merlin insists on whipping up something for dinner. Harry wanders off as Merlin pokes through the cupboard and Merlin almost calls him back. He can’t bear to take his eyes off him, still fearing this is only a glorious dream. He’s boiling water for pasta when Harry returns carrying a framed photograph. He’s crying once again. Merlin has the feeling they’ll both be doing quite a lot of that. Perhaps they can blame it on age.

“Merlin.” Harry looks up in awe. “This…this is Eggsy and Tilde? And…and their children?”

“Aye,” Merlin says with a fond smile. “Stefan and Roxanne.”

“Roxanne,” Harry whispers, looking at the photo. They had official royal photographs taken every year, but this was a more casual shot with the four of them standing under a beautiful tree.

“Stefan’s middle name is Hart,” Merlin tells him.

Harry looks up so quickly Merlin’s afraid he’s given himself whiplash. “What?”

“Oh, Harry, Eggsy has missed ye almost as much as I.” Merlin kisses his forehead and goes back to the stove. “He became Galahad…did ye proud. Now he lives in Sweden but works for Kingsman in a quiet undercover capacity. Tilde was named Queen last year.” Merlin shakes his head. “Your boy is consort to the Queen of Sweden.”

“Remarkable.” Harry touches the photo. “I always knew he had potential.”

“Aye, ye did. Perhaps we could take a trip to Sweden before we go to Scotland?”

Harry’s face lights up. “Yes, Merlin.”

Something occurs to Merlin. “Harry.”

“Yes, dearest?”

Merlin smiles. “Happy birthday.”

 

The next few days pass by in a blur. Merlin doesn’t let Harry out of his sight and Harry loves every minute of it. Merlin had always been loving and attentive, but he continues to look at Harry as if he expects him to disappear at any moment. He finally goes in to Kingsman in the beginning of the next week to give his official resignation to Arthur. He will take time off for their trips to Sweden and Scotland and then come in to the office and work with his underlings for a month, but after that, he is retiring.

“He said no one has ever retired as Merlin, they’ve always just died on the job,” Merlin tells Harry as they pack for their trip. Merlin looks into space and Harry frowns. “It’s what I was planning on doing to be honest with ye. But now…” He looks at Harry and blushes. “Now I have other plans.”

“Other plans?” Harry raises his eyebrow. “Do those other plans include keeping me naked in bed for days at a time?”

“Whatever gives ye that idea?” Merlin asks innocently.

“I saw the list on your nightstand, darling. I believe it was titled, “Things I Now Want to Do After I Retire”?”

“Oh, sod off,” Merlin grumbles, heading into the en suite.

Harry chuckles as he finishes packing. “Everything is set with Tilde, then?”

“Aye,” Merlin calls back. “She will have a car waiting for us at the airport, and she’ll make sure we get into the palace without Eggsy knowing about it.”

“You’re sure this is a good surprise?” Harry asks. He’s half-afraid Eggsy will be angry when he sees him, although he isn’t sure why.

“Harry,” Merlin says reproachfully, returning to the room. “I told ye. Eggsy has mourned ye so deeply…this will be the best gift he could ever dream of.”

“All right.” Harry stares as Merlin moves his bag to the floor and climbs into bed. “What are you doing?”

“Going to bed. I have to make a call to HQ before we leave tomorrow, and I want to get up early.”

“But…it’s early NOW.”

“We should get some sleep.”

“We can sleep when we’re dead, old man.” But Harry climbs into bed as well.

“Dinnae say things like that, please, Harry,” Merlin says quietly. “I know ye jest, but…ye were dead to me twice. Once literally, once figuratively. It is nae a joke to me.”

“Oh, darling.” Harry is in his arms in an instant, kissing him passionately. “I’m sorry. I will do my level best not to make that mistake again.”

“Good.” Merlin turns on the television, but it’s Harry who falls asleep first, safe in his Hamish’s arms.

 

The flight is uneventful and the car is waiting as promised. Harry fidgets in the back set, sweat running down his back. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Because ye are excited, Harry. I know what Eggsy means to ye. Ye will be so proud when ye see him. He is everything we could have wished for him to be.” Merlin kisses his hand.

“And Tilde? Will she…will she like me?”

“I have nae seen this Harry Hart before,” Merlin says with a grin. “Are ye actually…scared.”

“Of course not. She is only the Queen of Sweden, whom I’ve never met, who is married to my dear friend. There is nothing to be scared of.”

“Exactly.” Merlin continues to hold his hand as they approach the palace.

A beautiful blond woman is waiting on the steps as they pull up. “She is more beautiful than her picture,” Harry murmurs.

“And just as lovely on the inside,” Merlin tells him. His smile widens as they exit the car. “Tilde.”

“Merlin.” She hugs him and turns to Harry. “You must be Harry.”

“Your Majesty.” Harry bows.

“Oh, that isn’t necessary, please just call me Tilde.” She looks at him and smiles. “He will be so excited. He’s missed you so.”

“I…” Harry says, at a loss for words.

“Come. He is in the back garden with the children.” She leads the way through the palace, chatting happily with Merlin. Harry clutches Merlin’s hand, wondering if this is a bad idea. He hasn’t felt this lost since he’d awakened after the shooting.

They look through a windowed door out onto a large garden. A handsome man is running and laughing with a boy and girl, the children from the photo at Merlin’s house. Eggsy’s in casual trousers and a cardigan, darting in and out of the flowerbeds, easily hopping over the taller plants. The children whine that he’s not playing fair and he taunts them with pleasure. “My dear boy,” Harry whispers.

Tilde looks at him and smiles. “Eggsy, dear?” She calls as she walks through the door. “We have some surprise visitors.”

“Really?” Eggsy frowns. “Not exactly dressed for company, am I?”

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” she says, motioning to the door.

“Hello, lad.” Merlin follows her out on the grass.

“Merlin!” Eggsy’s face lights up and he runs to hug him. “What the fu…I mean, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you. Something came to my house the other day that I thought you might be interested in.” Merlin kisses his head. 

“Something for me?” Eggsy asks with a laugh. “Talk about misdirection by the post office. I’m sure I haven’t…” His voice trails off as Harry slowly steps through the door. Eggsy actually stumbles back, holding on to Merlin’s arm for support.

“Hello, Eggsy,” Harry says quietly. He drinks him in, eye running over the sparkling eyes, strong jaw, trim figure. “You’re looking well,” he finishes lamely. He starts to blush as Eggsy simply continues to stare at him.

“H-Haz?” Eggsy stammers. He suddenly looks lost, his eyes glittering with tears. He looks as young as he had the day Harry met him outside the station.

“Yes, Eggsy…it’s me.”

“It’s really you?” Eggsy takes a few steps forward. “Harry?” 

“Yes, dear boy. It is really me.”

“Harry.” Eggsy barrels into his arms, almost knocking him over. He sobs on Harry’s chest, arms wrapped around him so tightly Harry can barely breathe. Harry doesn’t care. What’s a little oxygen compared to the feeling of Eggsy’s embrace? “Christ, Harry…oh my God…how…I missed you so fuckin’ much, bruv. So much, all the time. Every year on V-Day I came home ta England, hoped maybe someday ya’d be there when came home.” His accent, apparently controlled most of the time, has returned full force. “Missed ya.”

“I’m so sorry, dear boy. I’m sorry,” Harry keeps repeating, although he’s done nothing wrong. He rocks Eggsy a bit, dampening the soft hair with his own tears.

“Mummy, why is Daddy crying?” Stefan asks.

“Because he’s happy, my love,” Tilde replies. Harry sees Merlin hand her his handkerchief. 

“Ya ain’t mad at us…fer sending ya away?” Eggsy pulls back to study Harry’s face. “Didn’t want ta, wanted ya with us so bad. But it wasn’t right fer ya.”

“I understand, Eggsy, and of course I’m not mad.” 

Eggsy pulls out his own handkerchief and blows his nose. “Fuck,” he says with a shaky laugh. “Guess you met Tilde, then.”

“I did. But who are these very attractive children?” Harry asks.

“Oh.” Eggsy waves them over. “This is Stefan, and Roxanne. Stef, Rox, this is my very best friend. His name is Harry.”

“But I thought he was dead?” Stefan asks, and Eggsy winces.

“We thought so, Stefan, but thankfully it was not correct,” Tilde tells him.

“You’re going to stay and visit a while, right?” Eggsy asks. “You’re not running off again?”

“No, lad, your charming wife has offered to let us stay for a few days. Then we are off to close up Harry’s house. I am retiring from Kingsman.”

Eggsy’s mouth drops open. “Has hell frozen over, too?”

“We have a lot to discuss,” Harry says with a grin. 

“Let’s go inside for tea,” Tilde says, gently pushing the children ahead. “Hands washed, Daddy, too.”

“Yes, Mum,” the children say at the same time Eggsy says, “Yes, dear.”

Merlin holds Harry back. “Are ye all right?”

“Yes,” Harry promises. “The most all right I’ve ever been.” He rubs his nose against Merlin’s. “I have you to take care of me.”

“I’m an old man.”

“I am as well,” Harry points out. “But a long time ago I promised you forever, didn’t I?” He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a ring. 

“Harry,” Merlin whispers, allowing Harry to slide it onto his finger.

“Forever,” Harry repeats, kissing him.

_You'll be older too, and if you say the word, I could stay with you...will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?_

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When I'm 64" - The Beatles


End file.
